


Handy

by INMH



Series: trope-bingo fanfiction fills 2020 [16]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Flirting, Humor, M/M, Sexual Content, Strong Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:21:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27145133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/INMH/pseuds/INMH
Summary: “I thought we agreed not to bring personal affairs into the office.”
Relationships: James Bond/M | Gareth Mallory
Series: trope-bingo fanfiction fills 2020 [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1848508
Comments: 4
Kudos: 38





	Handy

“I can help with that, if you like.”  
  
Mallory’s eyes rolled shut. “I thought we agreed not to bring personal affairs into the office.”  
  
“I don’t seem to recall agreeing to that.”  
  
Well, Bond _had_ been a bit drunk when he’d made that promise.  
  
Not that it was an excuse.  
  
“I do, so knock it off.”  
  
Bond looked absolutely petulant. “God forbid I offer to do something nice for you every once and a while.”  
  
“There’s making my life easier, and then there’s offering to perform a sex act on me at work.” Mallory shifted, grimacing when the motion sent pain racing through his shoulder. He’d had surgery recently, something to tidy up the lingering damage done by Raoul Silva’s bullet. One would think it would discourage Bond from proposing inappropriate activities on the clock, but evidently it had only given him ideas.  
  
In retrospect, Mallory really should have known better.  
  
“I don’t see a difference.”  
  
“I know you don’t.”  
  
Bond rose from his chair, slithering over and coming to sit on the edge of Mallory’s desk; Mallory eyed the door, on the other side of which Moneypenny was working. She was an alert woman by nature, and he was already concerned that she’d picked up on Bond’s flirting and drawn the natural conclusions.  
  
“Come on now, it’s hardly the first time we’ve fooled around here.”  
  
“It would be the second. And you will recall that I threatened you repeatedly with terrible retribution if we were discovered.”  
  
“And I participated anyway.”  
  
In some ways, Bond was a remarkably cautious man; in others, he had all the caution of a man juggling grenades in a gunpowder factory. It really didn’t seem to occur to him that some godawful emergency could break out and leave them (literally) caught with their pants down.  
  
But it could, and this was where Mallory’s finer and broader sense of caution came into play. “Every encounter raises the odds of being caught. And there are a number of alternatives I would prefer to be fired for other than ‘sexual misconduct in the workplace’.”   
  
“You’re assuming that we would be ratted out to anyone of significance, and I’m telling you that that wouldn’t be a problem. I’m a very good and _fast_ shot.”  
  
Mallory rolled his eyes again.  
  
Bond’s hand snaked its way to his knee, the man smirking like he really did think he could convince Mallory into it. The tenacity was admirable, one of Bond’s best or worst traits depending on the day and situation. The problem was that he was competing against Mallory’s sense of discipline and willpower, an unstoppable force meeting an immovable object.   
  
“I know,” he said flatly, “That you’re only doing this to get out of finishing your report on Tajikistan.”  
  
Bond scoffed. “Me, delaying some god-awfully boring paperwork to come and pester you for sex? My God, what sort of man do you take me for?”  
  
“An aggravatingly transparent one, when you want to be. And as you succeeded in blowing up several oil tankers on that little excursion, I sincerely doubt the report could be all _that_ boring to write.” Mallory picked up a folder on his desk and smacked Bond’s hand away. “Go on, get, go finish your report and stop harassing me.”  
  
Bond sighed. “ _Fine,_ if you insist.” He stood up, straightened his suit, and then wheeled around to head for the door.  
  
“Bond.”  
  
007 turned, eyebrow raised.  
  
Mallory met it with an arched brow of his own. “Behave yourself,” he said slowly, “And we can meet later tonight.”  
  
A grin unfurled over Bond’s face. “Oh?”  
  
“This is, one more time, contingent on good behavior. Don’t give me any reason to rescind the offer, Bond: No bothering Q, no flirting with Moneypenny, no flippant remarks in the Tajikistan report.”  
  
Bond gave a small salute with one hand, using the other to grab the door-handle. “Of course not, M,” he said pleasantly as he opened the door, now audible to Moneypenny. “I will get right on that.”  
  
Then he winked, and mouthed ‘call me’.  
  
Mallory sighed. “Lock him out, Moneypenny,” he called into the outer office.  
  
“Will do, sir!” came the cheerful response.  
  
“Traitor.”  
  
Mallory rubbed his eyes, shaking his head.  
 _  
That man will be the death of me._  
  
Not the worst way he could go, but still.  
  
-End


End file.
